Operation: Anti Tsundere
by TheNinjaWangsta
Summary: Love can endure anything. Unless you have to deal with a tsundere Englishman and a pmsing Italian of course. When America and Spain finally have enough of their lovers, madness ensues. UK/US, Rm/Sp, slight crack. All pairings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction, so I'm sorry for any OOCness and how sucky this story probably is. Just to clarify, this story will end in Romano/Spain and England/America, but with tons of Spain/America/Spain fanservice. The characters listed are based upon who dominates most of the chapter, not necessarily the pairing.**

**Main Pairings: Spain/America/Spain (it's more of a bromance), England/America, Romano/Spain**

**Side Pairings: Prussia/Canada, Italy/Germany, Japan/Hungary/Japan, temporary Prussia/America and France/Spain**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Russia does. **

For once, all was calm in the normally raucous world conference room. The Bad Touch Trio was missing (which basically means no one's getting molested, except Russia), Romano was too upset to call anyone a *insert food product here* bastard, and America didn't once say the word hero. What brought these strange events on, might you ask?" The first two will be explained later, but the last all started last night.

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**Alfred's POV**

America sauntered up the steps to England's house, planning to grace his boyfriend with his heroic presence. Just as he was about to slam the door open he heard a horrible, gruesome, never before heard sound. England giggling.

"Oh I love you guys soo much. Especially you Charlie." England said, and America could practically hear the smile in his voice. Suddenly, a foreign emotion took hold of him. It wasn't jealously, of course not, it was merely his hero senses kicking in, because England would only say "I love you" to him. Come to think of it, he never has (the time he was a shota does not count; no one can resist a shota). That merely solidified the fact he was probably being tortured by this Charlie_ person. _As America stylishly kicked the door open he immediately tackled the first person he saw (and the only other person there), England.

"WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING WANKER! THAT IS AN _ANTIQUE _DOOR! AND WHY THE BULLOCKS ARE YOU STRADDLING ME GIT!"

America looked down to see that he was indeed, straddling the furiously blushing Brit, blissfully unaware of the lewd situation he was in (he was obviously too busy looking for the villain, he is not dense).

"This is no time for you to panic England! Just calm down, the hero will crush this Charlie person." America replied with a mega watt grin and his awesomely brave pose.

England's (massive) eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he mentally face-palmed himself. How could he not introduce his boyfriend to Charlie the Unicorn and all his other magical friends? He was a gentleman for faeries sake! England cleared his voice, and a fond sparkle lit his emerald eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce you America, this is Charlie, Flying Mint Bunny, Tinker Bell..." England continued to list off his magical friends as a realization dawned onto the American, a blush lighting his features.

"Uhhm, England?" He said timidly looking down.

"Yes America?" The Brit asked, mentally cheering at the fact that it looked like America was going to apologize.

"It's that time of the month again, isn't it."

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America was shortly kicked out afterwards, and the next day during the meeting, he was deep in thought wondering how exactly he was going to apologize to England, a serious frown firmly placed on his normally boyish features. He gazed wistfully at the emerald eyed Brit standing at the front of the room, ranting about something unimportant, like the global economy. _"If people just became one with me, we wouldn't have this sort of problem,"_ America thought to himself, completing forgetting about apologizing to the Briton. _"We could all have hamburgers every day. Speaking of hamburgers, I think I saw a McDonalds in the lobby! I think I'll order 76 Big Macs, wait no England told me to go on a diet, maybe only 69-"_

America's train of thought was broken as an extremely sexy and loud voice pierced the air.

"_So I put my hands up, they're playin my song the butterflies fly away-"_

America glanced casually at the caller ID, and seeing it was Tony, immediately lifted his grave mood.

"Hey Tony I made this new movie it's called Cowboys vs. Aliens, you should definitely check it out-"

America was once again interrupted as a firm yet slender hand grabbed the phone in his hand.

"Why. The Bloody Hell. Did you interrupt me." England said lowly, slipping into his infamous pirate voice.

"I have to go now Tony, love you." America said casually, snapping the phone shut while choosing to ignore the now tense atmosphere, and the various nations staring at them.

"Answer me right now _Alfred_," England growled, getting even angrier.

America forgot to respond as he finally took in England's appearance (sheesh people, he knew how to read The Atmosphere, Prussia lent it to him when Germany gave it to him for Christmas). The Brit's normally polished appearance didn't seem to have any faults, but if you looked closely you would notice a slightly wrinkled sweater vest, and an untied shoe lace. As his gaze travelled upwards he could see faint bags under England's eyes. America concluded it was probably due to him reading some old geezer book late into the hours of the night, which is what he usually did when he kicked America out of his house. Of course, America wouldn't read some book; he would read a fanfiction about how heroic he was! _"Hmm…"_ America mused to himself. _"I wonder if that fanfiction where my sidekick Spain and I rescued our tsundere princesses, England and Romano by NOTASTALKER-JUSTAFRYINGPANLOVER69 was updated…? Speaking of Romano, he's awfully quiet-"_

"AMERICA LISTEN TO ME YOU BLOODY GIT! IF YOU THINK THIS _TONY_ IS SO IMPORTANT THAN THIS RELATIONSHIP IS OVER!" England screamed, his eyes full of anger and a hint of jealously as he stormed bitchily out of the conference room. America was too stunned to react to this sudden turn of events. He moved to follow England but somehow, he couldn't. This was the third time this week England dumped him, and a hero can only apologize so many times. It was always "America you're such a slob, America read the bloody atmosphere etc. etc etc." Everyone seemed to think he would ignore all the insults thrown at him, which he did, but ones from the man he loved hurt the most. America decided he would just take some time to think about things (he was actually following England's advice of not rushing into things), as he exited the conference room in a different direction from England, muttering various insults under his breath. "I am a hero, no matter what England says," the American said to himself, strolling the streets of London. "Screw that atmosphere book too, it didn't help at all. Why did Prussia give to me in the first place? Speaking of Prussia, I might as well go to some bar with him to forget about this mess." America whipped out his phone, and immediately started texting:

TO: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions

FROM: the_1337_hero

Hey Prussia you wanna go to a bar tonight?

TO: the_1337_hero

FROM: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions

That unawesome prick dumped you again didn't he? Mein gott Alfred, this is the second time this week!

TO: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions

FROM: the_1337_hero

Actually, the third. Now do you want to go to a bar or not?

TO: the_1337_hero

FROM: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions

Kesesessese ok Alfred, but I'm bringing some friends along

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**Arthur' POV**

As Arthur gave his speech, he couldn't help but notice that bloody American staring at him thoughtfully, a frown on gorgeous features. He blushed lightly, and he decided to be the responsible one and apologize, that is until some dreadful Miley Cyrus song started killing his eardrums.

"_So I put my hands up, they're playin my song the butterflies fly away-"_

The American then had the nerve to answer it, and the person he was talking to was named _Tony_. _"Oh no,"_ England panicked to himself, recalling that fanfiction he read last night by an author called _I_keel_fucking_limeys_. In it America cheated on him with a guy who happened to be named Tony. He suddenly got very angry, eyebrows twitching dangerously.

"Why. The Bloody Hell. Did you interrupt me." England said, not noticing his pirate side taking over as he grabbed the phone.

"I have to go now Tony, love you." America said casually, failing to catch the hurt look on England's features. _"No,"_ England thought, _"I can't show any sadness." _England then successfully put a mask of pure unadulterated anger of his face as he growled, "Answer me right now, _Alfred_."

America just stared at England, no childish retort or frantic apology. A bubble of fear started to rise in England's throat. _Was America planning to break up with him for this Tony? _England then did what he did best, screaming like a tsundere.

"AMERICA LISTEN TO ME YOU BLOODY GIT! IF YOU THINK THIS _TONY_ IS SO IMPORTANT THAN THIS RELATIONSHIP IS OVER!"

When America failed to respond the Brit stormed classily out of the conference room, expecting the American to follow him with an apology on his lips. When he didn't, England knew what he had to do. He had to… apologize. Little did he know that Tony wasn't the problem, but a certain Spaniard.

**O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N** ~ A ~ N ~ T ~ I ~ **T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~**** D ~ E ~ R ~ E**

**Author's Note: I know this is my first story, but I can guarantee anyone whose reading this that it will be finished. Stay tuned for next chapter, it's Romano and Spain's PoV.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: OMG thank you so much you guys for the reviews, story alerts and favs! It's definitely the best Christmas present ever. Extra thanks to: Maya-chan2007, Snowflakes-Over-the-Water, natcat5, dragonheart3 and Kuchaki for reviewing!**

**Warnings: Language, implied sexual situations**

If you were wondering _where _exactly the Bad Touch Trio was during the world meeting, and _why _Romano was so upset, it can easily be explained by the disastrous events that unfolded last night. It all started at Romano's hotel room.

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"Take that you French bastard; all you're good for is molesting people… and Russia!"

"Mon cher, how can you wound me so! It is not molestation; it is an act of l'amour!"

"Kesesese, so you're saying that you amour Russland?"

"Even the énorme Russie deserves l'amour! We have already become one, ohonhonhonhonhon~"

"Lovviii, you look sooo cuteee, come give boss Spain a hug!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP BASTARDOS!"

This was the… interesting conversation that unfolded in Romano's hotel room while watching the World Cup game of France vs. Italy. Italy had scored a goal, and he couldn't resist bragging like that douche he is. After a few minutes of this useless conversation, Romano decided to kick Prussia and France out, not caring if that France's iPhone was still in the room, so he could spend some _alone _time with that sexy Spaniard.

"_Lookbastardwe'realonenowsowecandothat,"_ Romano said quickly, his face heating up.

"Awww, can't Prussia and Francia join too? I promise they'll be quiet." Spain questioned, oblivious to the true meaning of Romano's words.

"Wh-hat you pervert! Chigiii!"

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**Antonio's POV**

After Spain was promptly kicked out he truly was puzzled. "Huh," Spain thought to himself, walking out of the hotel floor and into the elevator, "I was just asking if Prussia and Francia could watch the World Cup Game with us. I even told Lovi they would be quiet…" Spain was still lost in thought as he sauntered out of the hotel into the busy streets of London, ignoring the drivers yelling at him to "Get the bullocks out of the way!" Too bad he also didn't notice a certain Italian right behind him either. "Maybe I should apologize… I might as well do it tomorrow at the world conference. For now I could go to that bar Prussia and Francia usually go to when we come here. What was it called again….? Oh I remember now! PissedUnicorns*****!" As Spain made his way to the bar something even worse than England's giggling stopped him at the doorway. He spotted France and Prussia in a heated discussion, which didn't involve France putting the moves on anyone or Prussia ranting about how awesome he was. Spain could only make out a few words from this distance like "kidnap" and "blackmail." Needless to say, Spain was more disturbed than a straight guy finding his eighty year old grandma's doujinishi collection. Spain immediately made his way over to the table they were at, slamming his hands dramatically on it.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DOWN WITH PRUSSIA AND FRANCE?"

They merely stared exchanged worried glances, and quickly put on a mask of indifference, which Spain ignored, for he was too busy panicking at his two best friend's erratic behavior.

"Calm down Spanien, we are Prussia and France." Prussia soothed uncharacteristically, trying to relax the spazzing Spaniard.

"Listen to your ami's Spain," France added quickly.

"AHAHAHA! That's what they ALWAYS say! The REAL PRUSSIA would say, _of course I'm Prussia, can't you recognize my awesomeness_? And the REAL FRANCE would use this opportunity to grope me!"

France and Prussia just stared back for a few seconds, their sapphire and ruby eyes showing a tad bit of apprehension in them, and Spain knew there was only one way to figure out if they truly were the real France and Prussia. He stared straight into Prussia's eyes, and yelled "YOU ARE NOT AWESOME!" Prussia could stare back feebly, as Spain grabbed France by his (fashionable) shirt collar and kissed him square on the lips. Spain pulled back a few seconds later, expecting Prussia to start denying that he was unawesome, and France to ask for more but instead, they stared behind him in mixed expressions. Spain slowly turned around, dreading what he would see.

Romano stood there, his face oddly pale for once instead of tomato red as he screamed, "YOU LITTLE WHORE! IT'S OVER! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT GOING TO THE MEETING! CHIGIIIIIIIIIIIII!" As Romano fled the bar along with several peculiar looks from the patrons, Spain opened his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. He was supposed to run out there and apologize to his little tomato, so why wasn't he? Spain slowly pondered his relationship with his Lovi. Every time he would compliment him by calling him cute, he would get a bitch slap to the face and annoying pmsing about how much of a tomato bastard he was. Who ended up apologizing? Oh yeah that's right, _him_. Lovino even _sleeps_ with his brother Feliciano sometimes, and does he complain? _Nooooo_. Spain could slowly feel foreign annoyance bubbling up inside him (dammnit, he may act all cheerful but he has feelings too!). The one time he kisses France, Romano has to dump him? "_No_," Spain thought to himself defiantly, "_I'm not Romano's bitch. He can't do whatever he wants and expect me to come crawling back to him every time. So what if he's cute? I love him, but he needs to prove he loves me back."_ With that thought in mind, he turned back to Prussia and France, giving them a sheepish smile. "Why don't we come back here tomorrow night?"

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**Romano's POV**

After kicking Spain out of his hotel room, his worst fears were confirmed. Spain really did have the hots for France and Prussia. "He probably thought I wasn't hot enough to have sex with," Romano grumbled to himself angrily. Suddenly, a loud ping sounded from France's phone. "Well well well," Romano thought to himself, "If I get dirt on that Snail Bastard by looking on his phone, I can make him stay away from my Spain." With that in mind, Romano victoriously picked up the phone and as quick as he picked it up, dropped it in horror. The accursed device read "You have an update for the fanfiction: PotatoesxTomatoesxCroissant THREESOME by_ Perverted_non-French_guy_. Romano stared at the phone for a few seconds, too horrified to read it. Ok, maybe not. He grabbed it and swiftly read the summary, his jaw dropping with a tad bit of drool escaping (he didn't think it was arousing, he was just hungry, damnit!)

PotatoesxTomatoesxCroissant by: P_erverted_non-French_guy_

_Summary: Have you ever wondered what France, Prussia and Spain did behind closed doors? Have you ever had a wet dream about France's silky hair, Prussia's five meters, or Spain's perfectly tanned Mediterranean skin? Wouldn't you like to join them in their *ahem* interesting endeavors? In this story, YOU the reader are in it, along with these fiiine hunks of meat. Chapter 10 now up!_

After reading this sex- AWFUL summary, Romano quickly grew suspicious. That story had 100k+ reviews, and Romano had never seen a fanfiction with that many reviews (not that he goes on or anything, of course not, only teenage girls and old pedophile geezers like England go on stuff like that!). A story so popular had to have some research done, but Romano refused to believe that was true. "This Perverted_non-French_guy probably pretends to be all calm and shit on the outside, but on the inside he's a lewd creeper with a fucked up imagination!" Romano yelled to no one in particular. Somewhere in the world, Japan sneezed. Romano then decided to stalk- FOLLOW Spain to where he was going, because he was hungry of course, he had been drooling earlier, and Spain also forgot his phone. He's never stalked anyone, except that one time when Feli and the potato bastard went on a date, and when they went to the mall, and when they had se-. Okay, maybe he's stalked people before. At least he's not as bad as Hungary. As he stealthily snuck behind random walls, hiding from Spain (like a boss), he realized he didn't have to. He could just walk along behind him without him noticing! He did just that, and as they reached the entrance to the bar Spain still failed to notice him.

Romano then decided to just hang back and let things unfold. Shortly afterwards, Spain started yelling like, well like Romano. Romano gazed perplexedly at the events, considering about forgetting this whole misunderstanding. Romano started ambling toward the trio, until Spain _kissed_ France. France kissing Spain wasn't that bad, okay maybe it was, but Spain kissing France? Even worse. Romano could feel his face draining of color, as the trio laid their eyes on him, shocked expressions evident on their faces. Romano screamed something, but he was so hurt he could hardly comprehend what he was saying, and he quickly ran out of the bar (he pretended the British were coming), tears streaming from his eyes (a leaf got in his eye, he would NEVER cry, oh who was he kidding, he was fucking crying!). As Romano ran he tripped on an ant, scraping his knee, and the pain caused him to contemplate on what he just saw. "Well," Romano said to some random kid passing by, "I've kissed Feli before, so I suppose Spain can kiss France."

"Who the hell are you?" the kid glared, giving his best BAMF pose in his totally fabulous sailor outfit (it didn't work, due to his huge eyebrows ruining the effect).

"Yeah I know, I'm pretty mature, thinking the situation out. Damnit, I guess I have to apologize tomorrow." Romano said, walking away from the brat.

When Romano arrived at the world meeting the next day, he made sure to wear his best hand-made Italian suit (complete with pocket protector), put on some _El Tomatito Cologne _and most importantly put on the best smile on his feeble willpower could muster (he was smiling as much as a little girl being hugged by her overweight and smelly auntie, which was still an improvement). When Romano arrived, he was expecting Spain to be there, with half a hope that he would apologize, but then he suddenly remembered he told him not to come. When Romano was usually sad, happy or feeling any emotion at all he would usually hide it with anger. But even Romano could run out of anger, and as he reached his seat, he silently sulked to himself. "_Damnit Spain, where are you_?"

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To say the other nations at the meeting were disturbed would be the understatement of the century. The whole bad touch trio was missing, and America and Romano were strangely quiet. Most nations appreciated the silence, but two in particular were seriously disheartened. Hungary and Japan, otherwise known as _NOTASTALKER-JUSTAFRYINGPANLOVER69 _and _Perverted_non-French_guy _knew something was going on, and they were going to get to the bottom of it(Spamano were one of their 1,960****** OTPs!).

**O ~P ~E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N * **A ~ N ~ T ~ I** * T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E~ R ~ E**

**Author's Note:**

*** If I used my British slang correctly, pissed means drunk. So basically, the name of the bar means Drunk Unicorns**

**** 1960 was the year Japan and Hungary established a diplomatic relationship, similar to the one they have in this fanfic (they both work together for the greater good of mankind. Greater good = yaoi).**

**Next Chapter has America and Spain together! With the help of a certain awesome Prussian and sexy Frenchman that is.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for the late update you guys, I've had a nasty cold and cough lately, and I have to go to the doctor tomorrow. You guys are probably going to think Gilbert and Francis are being OOC, and I apologize, but they have their motives. Thanks for the story alerts, and extra thanks to Axxi and Ramen is Happiness for reviewing! Oh and the first part of the chapter is somewhat serious, but it's vital to the plot. Without furder ado, here is chapter 3 of Operation: Anti Tsundere**

After getting kicked out of Romano's hotel room, Prussia and France made their way to the bar they usually went to, PissedUnicorns. The atmosphere was strangely tense, a stark contrast to the normally playful mood, and France tried to break it by rambling on about how French vin (wine) is "far superior to this English alcohol they call rum." France's jabbering only served to make the atmosphere even tenser, and Prussia could only gaze listlessly at him, lost in thought as he prattled on about the latest fashions in Paris.

When they reached the dingy bar, France immediately made his way over to a table, with Prussia walking hesitantly behind him. After what seemed like a century, Prussia cleared his throat nervously, and awkwardly started a conversation with France.

"Francis… I just want to talk about… oh forget it," the normally straightforward and blunt Prussia muttered, faltering at the last minute.

"What did you want to say?" France gently prodded, his sapphire eyes widening slightly, not in a surprised way, but rather in an expectant way.

"It's just… Arthur and Lovino…" Prussia started, pausing briefly, contemplating his next words.

"You are jealous of them, oui." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"H-how did you know?" Prussia stuttered nervously, glancing around fervently, expecting Romano or England to pop out of nowhere any second now to castrate him.

"I too, am jealous Gilbert," France said plainly.

"Wh-a"

"What are we to do about it Gilbert?" France deadpanned, blue eyes losing some of their luster. "Amérique and Espagne and are too in l'amour with dearest Angleterre and that petit tomate. Amérique and Espagne are like brothers to moi, but that violent prude and over emotional Italian took them away from us. The power of l'amour is just too strong.

"THEY SHOULDN'T BE IN LOVE WITH THOSE UNGRATEFUL STICK UP THEIR ASS BASTARDS! MEIN GOTT!" Prussia screamed angrily, now gaining confidence on what he planned to do. "That bastard England may be my friend, but he still stole Amerika from me. Alfred isn't just a gaming buddy, or even my student, but a little brother. He's one of the few nations who actually took me seriously, even admired me, and appreciated my awesome war tactics **(1)**."

"Alfred is also important to me mon cher," France stated sadly, his voice dropping steadily. "England may bet my treasured rival, or maybe even a friend once, but Alfred is also like a little brother to moi. He is also someone I admire, for even at a tender age he stood up to the all powerful British Empire, and is now a superpower. He inspired me to rise up against royalty and the British all those years ago **(2)**," France finished softly, reminiscing about the past.

"But that Romano is even worse," Prussia glared, his voice rising exponentially, his stomach seething internally. "Both him and his coward of a little bruder."

"Sweet little Feliciano?" France questioned, unsurprised of Prussia's hate for Romano but befuddled of his rage at the innocent Feliciano.

"Ja Francis, don't act so surprised," Prussia retorted, piercing ruby eyes locking on puzzled sapphire ones.

"I still don't know what you're talk-" France stopped abruptly, eyes looking down at the sullied floor pityingly and realization.

"So you figured it out, huh Francis." Prussia began hatefully, rage evident in every fiber of his being as he clenched his hands together angrily. "Most people think I'm glad that mein bruder finally has a friend, and a cute one at that. I was happy for him, for a few years. What people don't realize is that every waking moment West has is spent with that _Italian,_ and the occasional times West talks to the awesome me is when he wants to know how to cheer Feli up (or feel him up, France thought, but then mentally slapped himself for being perverted in a situation like this). The only other times Luddy pays attention to me is when I bother him or drink all the bier…" Prussia started off saying that strong and sure, but by the end it all dwindled down into pure despair.

"Gilbert… Ludwig is in love, it's natural…" France sighed in acceptance and resignation, his hands fiddling with his collar sadly. "There's nothing we can do about it."

"IT'S BEEN FIFTY DAMN YEARS FRANCIS!" Prussia half yelled, half hissed. "That other Vargas twin has been fucking up Tony too. Nowadays, all Tony does if either talk about how "cute" that digusting little monster is, or figuring out a way for Romano to forgive him! He never hangs out with us anymore, because his _lover_ insists that he doesn't, and it's the same scenario with Alfred **(3)**."

"L'amour Gilbert, l'amour," France said simply, never knowing he could become so depressed by the beauty of l'amour. Unfortunately, every rose has its' thorns, and the English and Italian roses are no exception.

"I'm in love to damnit! Somehow that England finds a way to make not only Alfred upset, but Mattie too. When Alfred's upset, so is poor Mattie. Not even I can cheer him up." Prussia's eyes held a faraway look in them as he said this, and just the mere mention of Matthew's named made them light up in strange glow, not in his usual egotistical flare, but in a softer, more loving tone.

"Gilbert I-"

"There is something we can do about it though, dearest Francis," Prussia then started to chuckle maniacally, his ruby eyes now reverting back to the same look he had back when he was the bloodthirsty Prussian Empire.

"But how Gilbert?" France asked skeptically yet hopefully, "The power of l'amour is just too strong!"

"That's exactly how I plan to solve this problem," Prussia grinned evilly, already sure of his foolproof plot. "That, and a little bit of kidnapping and blackmail," Prussia finished smugly.

"Antonio and Alfred may be too dense to figure this out, but Romano and England sure aren't," France warned, already suspecting he knew what Prussia's plan was.

"Since you agreed, the first step is breaking the lovebirds up. It shouldn't be too hard with Alfred and Arthur, the world conference is tomorrow and Alfred will probably unknowingly flirt with some chick, causing Arthur to dump him. You can just kiss Antonio, so Romano will throw a hissy fit and dump him. Simple." Prussia said casually, flicking some imaginary dirt off his fingernails.

"As much as I would love to kiss Antonio (and everything that moves, Prussia thought), they should break up naturally. I will never forgive myself if I ruined a relationship." France said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DOWN WITH PRUSSIA AND FRANCE?" A shrill voice cut in suddenly.

To both France and Prussia's horror, they saw it was the one and only Spain. They exchange frantic glances, with France's saying "_I told you someone was going to figure it out, and the plan hasn't even started yet_," and Prussia's saying, "_Damn you karma_." They both quickly put a relaxed expression on their faces, hoping Spain wouldn't see through their façade. Spain then began to spazz erratically, spewing nonsense, with Prussia and France trying to calm him down, but failing. Suddenly, Spain screamed at Prussia that he was "unawesome" (pshh, so not true) and kissed France dead on the mouth. Prussia and France could see Romano's pale face behind them, and while Prussia cheered mentally, France smirked a bit, and they then tried to hide their victorious expressions with difficulty.

Spain then turned around slowly, and after being yelled at, by a furious Italian surprisingly, made no move to go after the fleeing Romano.

"_This is going to be easier than I thought_," Prussia and France both thought simultaneously, Prussia already planning his next moves and France hesitantly not telling Spain to go after Romano.

"Why don't we come back here tomorrow night?" Spain said suddenly, his voice suddenly forcefully cheerful.

"That's a good idea," Prussia said quickly, "I'll meet you at your hotel room. Didn't you forget to feed you turtles there? I think you should go over there now."

"Actually I didn-"

"Oh too bad well bye see you later!" Prussia interrupted, successfully pushing Spain out the door.

"What was that for mon ami?" Francis asked, quirking a flawless eyebrow.

"We needed to get rid of him to start our awesome plan of course." Prussia replied smoothly, flipping his snow white hair and reverting back to his old devious self.

"And what exactly is this so called "awesome plan"?" France questioned once again, although he already knew the answer.

"Operation Anti Tsundere." Prussia stated simply.

"And why exactly do you think I'm going to participate in this plan, if I do, I'm betraying a friend and a friend's beloved big brother." France inquired, wanting to agree but dreading the consequences.

"Don't consider them friends Franny, consider them… hoes and consider Al and Tony bros. You know that saying, bros before hoes." Prussia countered, inwardly smirking. "_I got you now Francis_," Prussia thought.

"Very well, let us start planning this Operation Anti Tsundere. But first let's exit this filthy bar and go to my hotel room. My hair smells like rum.

**O ~P ~E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N * **A ~ N ~ T ~ I** * T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E~ R ~ E**

"You have got to be shitting me."

"Don't ask so surprised, my wondrous culture is everywhere, even this 'orrible pig sty England calls London."

"Ok ok, sheesh, and people call _me_ narcissistic."

Prussia and France were currently standing in front of Paris **(4)**, a high class French hotel smack dab in the middle of London, the subtle neon lights flashing in their eyes. As they entered the flashy double doors, a realization hit Prussia like a high five to the face.

"Heh heh… Paris is _in_ London."

Prussia got no response from the normally lewd Frenchmen who was too busy shuddering in horror at the thought of his skills in bed being wasted on a certain bushy browed Englishman.

**O ~P ~E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N * **A ~ N ~ T ~ I** * T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E~ R ~ E**

"It's simple, just give them bier and then they get all drunk, causing them to make out and shit."

"Mon dieu! Not all problems can be solved by bier! Some French vin would be a much better remedy."

"That watery shit ain't going to do nothing. Real men drink bier."

"Real men with _class _drink vin."

"Bier."

"Vin."

"Bier."

"Vin."

"BIER FOR GOTT'S SAKE!"

The conversation about Operation Anti Tsundere had gone productively enough, they had both thrown in plans and made compromises, but somehow the conversation turned into whose alcohol was better.

"What exactly are we planning to accomplish with this plan Prussia?" France asked exasperatedly.

"Hooking Spain and America up."

**O ~P ~E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N * **A ~ N ~ T ~ I** * T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E~ R ~ E**

**Authors Note:**

**(1) Prussia is talking about the American Revolutionary War, where a famous Prussian General by the name of Baron Von Steuben taught the inexperienced American soldiers how to fight. Even in the dreadfully cold winter of Valley Forge, American soldiers still drilled under him, even though around a thousand of them died, Steuben only knew English commands and the British were hanging out comfortably in warm houses just a few miles away.**

**(2) France is also talking about the American Revolutionary War, where America shocked the world by defeating Great Britain. The French were inspired by this and started their own revolution, and even beheaded their King.**

**(3) In my head canon, the bad touch trio hang out sometimes with troublemakers like Alfred to wreak havoc. Coincidentally, they all helped him in the Revolutionary War.**

**(4) Yes, there is a hotel called Paris. Is there one in London? Probably not. There's one in Las Vegas though… (has perverted thoughts)**

**I'm sorry for not providing most of the translations, but most are either obvious or cognates. In one of the future chapters, I'm thinking of adding Gangster!America and Conquistador!Spain. I've never seen Gangster!Alfred and there isn't enough of Conquistador!Spain, and I was wondering if you guys want me to put them in the story. Sorry for the long author's note, ciao! Oh yeah, if you're wondering who the random kid was last chapter, it was Sealand. I'm not to fond of OC's, and I'm bad at writing them too.**


	4. Chapter 4: Random Flashbacks

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for not updating for a while you guys; I've had school and writer's block to deal with. I really wanted to post something though, so I just wrote a filler chapter with failed attempts at humor and randomness. The characters are somewhat OOC too, sorry. Anyways, thanks to: Pervy Randomz Player BUHAHAHA****, G Wings****, **Audacity-cupcakE, cake-error, Heixarn Mizu, ultimatebishoujo21, Maya-chan2007 and Axxi for reviewing! Oh yeah, check out the beginning of the first chapter if you want to know the pairings.

"Prussia," France started, face weary, acting like he was talking to a little kid (not really much of a difference to be honest), "As much as I would love to hook them up, it's not possible. Breaking them apart from their relationships is easy, but this is just too difficult.

"But _Fraaance," _Prussia whined, putting on his best puppy dog face. "You're the master of l'amour, you can do anything!"

"Well I suppose," France replied smugly, flipping his oh so flawless hair. "You embarrass me mon ami."

"_Kissing ass so works, take that West! Who needs being honest when you can feed someone's ego_!" Prussia thought triumphantly, inwardly smirking as he slipped a meek expression on his pale face. "So does that mean you'll help me…?"

"Why of course! I can showcase my fabulous skills!" France boasted, looking off randomly into the distance.

"Excellent… kesesesesese…" Prussia chuckled, immediately dropping the shy shota act (this act is seriously evil people, don't fall for it!).

"But," France said gravely, "If this works, the consequences are dire. Rosbif**(1)** and the petit tomate are going to KILL us! I'M TOO BEAUTIFUL TO DIE!" France then started sobbing uncontrollably, dreading his perfect face being marred by a bunch of barbarians.

"Please France, if my awesome plan works, which it will, for I am the awesomely amazing nation of Prussia, then Al and Toni will be so grateful than they'll protect us!"Prussia replied easily, brimming with overconfidence (arrogance).

"Look Gilbert, as much as I would love for Amérique and Espagne to become lovers, their personalties simply don't work together. Gilbert, I know about these things, for I am the MASTER of l'amour. You even said so yourself." France said exasperatedly. He did want to do this, but he knew it just wouldn't work.

"What are you talking about Franny?" Prussia asked, "They're both oblivious, remember that time at the strip bar?

***cue flashback***

**"**Hello _sir_, do you require any ***cough*** services from me?" A platinum blonde stripper waitress whispered, purposely showing off her cleavage (fake tits), steadying her slutty gaze on Alfred, but slightly perturbed by the bushy browed man besides him shooting her the death glare, and several men (Prussia and Denmark) nearby giggling like schoolgirls at the situation.

"OKAY!" Alfred grinned brightly, not noticing Arthur latch onto his arm angrily, or the leer the girl was giving him. He then leaned to whisper something in her ear, and she responded by giving him a peculiar smile and uttered a sure.

"What the hell did you just say Jones?" Arthur hissed protectively, not enjoying **his **boyfriend being so friendly with some whore.

"Chill Artie, I just asked if she wanted to go back to my car with me to-"

Arthur immediately cut out Alfred's voice, thinking about how Alfred wanted that slut to go back in his car for a quick fuck. He then decided to focus his sights on killing this skank now, and dealing with Alfred later.

"I could pull off the sexy waiter outfit _waay_ better than you slut!" Arthur suddenly screamed, not caring about his status as an absolutely invincible British gentlemen and how you were supposed to treat ladies with respect. Anyways, that thing wasn't a lady, it didn't wear enough clothes. He then proceeded to launch at the whore, punching her right in her left raccoon-looking eye.

America grabbed the fuming Brit before he could do any more damage, and as he writhed violently in his grip America gave him a confused look.

"Geez Art, I was just asking if she wanted some medicine in my car for her cough, the hero always helps those in need."

As the bar seemed to freeze (with Prussia and Denmark trying to hold in chuckles but failing miserably), Spain broke the silence.

"Hey can I get some too?" he asked cheerfully.

All the nations, just stared at him, as America cheerfully responded with a sure.

Romano and England just stood there, dying on the inside.

***end flashback***

"Well I guess you're right about that," France admitted, "But**-**

"Not to mention they are both scarily possessive." Prussia continued, dismissing his friend's words. "Remember when that little girl started talking to Romano and England?"

***cue flashback***

America, Prussia and Spain wanted to impress their lovers pretty badly, and in a rare show of dependence they asked France for help.

"Ah mon ami's, asking me for help?" France said snidely.

"Por favor mi amigo, I really wanna impress my cute little Lovi," Spain begged, emerald eyes large and pleading.

"Weeell.." France said, resolve crumbling.

"Yeah papa France pleaase~" America added, using his infamous puppy dog eyes.

"Uhh," France was about to crack from the pressure until Prussia started 'begging'.

"Yeah Franny help us already Meindamnit!" Prussia growled.

"Since you're so rude, NON!" France responded defiantly.

Ten minutes later they were at the biggest rose garden in the world with their boyfriends. France's idea was to take them in a garden, where they could squeal over the flowers.

"Alfred look! Aren't those English roses just stunning!" England cooed, eyes sparkling happily.

"These flowers are kind of nice bast- Antonio." Lovino admitted, gazing at the beautiful lilies.

"Wow Prussia these are… oh what's the point no ones paying attention to me anyway," Some random blonde dude said. I think his name is America or something.

Spain, Prussia and America opened their mouths to respond, but a little girl beat them to it.

"I know right! These are just gorgeous." The girl gushed, her bushy eyebrows strangely familiar.

"Why yes they are Miss, might I say you look quite dashing," England gushed (he wasn't being girly, he was being a gentleman, which is pretty much the same thing).

"Yeah I guess you're pretty cute," Romano said mumbled, because despite his (anger management) issues towards men, he held a soft spot for the opposite gender.

America and Spain could only twitch vehemently at their lovers' words, thinking how they were never complimented. "_I am a hero… heroes don't hate little girls… I am a hero… heroes don't hate little girls_," America repeated this several times in his head like a mantra, trying to calm himself down. "_That little girl is cute… I shouldn't harm cute things… that little girl is cute… I shouldn't harm cute things_." Spain was repeating himself this in his head, while he watched that brat talk with his Lovi.

"Soo…" America said through clenched teeth, "What's your name little girl?"

"Wy**(2)**!" she answered cheerfully, her ponytail bouncing cheerfully.

"Because I'm the hero and you should tell me," America shot back, getting more annoyed by the minute. "_My hero handbook never said that I couldn't beat up annoying little girls_." America thought to himself, while plastering on a creepily eerie smile similar to a certain Russian.

"Umm…. Wy," she said again, giving America a strange look.

"Answer the damn question- I mean what is up with your eyebrows?" Spain then took a closer look at them, and saw they looked liked England's. Spain didn't like anything pertaining to England**(3)**.

"What's up with your tomato shaped face?" The girl shot back, making Romano chuckle.

"And you with the bomber jacket," the girl continued, setting her sights on the American, "You're fat." England then had the nerve to nod in agreement, as Spain and America could feel their tempers ready to burst.

"I'm gonna kill you brat!" They yelled at the same time, angry that their boyfriends were being stolen by some kid. They leapt forward at the same time in opposite directions towards the girl, but she stepped back at the last minute with an evil smirk, letting the two nations crash into each other.

"Are you okay?" She asked with fake doe eyes, batting her long eyelashes.

"Don't mind those idiots," Romano said, shaking his head disapprovingly at the two nations still sprawled on the ground.

"Let us just enjoy these wonderful flowers," England added, pulling his nose up haughtily.

Spain and America could only lay there in contempt as they watched their lovers walk away with that little bitch.

***end flashback***

"Well I suppose-" France started.

"Lastly, they're both way too trusting, remember that party at Spain's place?" Prussia ended**.**

***cues flashback***

Loud music (which suspiciously sounded like Lady Gaga) blared throughout the house, while various nations either chugged alcohol, watched the World Cup, or if you were Sealand, plotting jerk England's death. The doorbell rang, and Spain rushed over there to open it. A large, glittery man clad in a trench coat, Team Edward turtleneck**(4)** and baseball hat stood smiling evilly to himself, mumbling something about eating retarded drunk faggots, but he tried to change it into a halfhearted smile when he saw Spain answer the door.

"Can I come in?" The gruff man asked, shifting his feet in anticipation and refusing to look Spain in the eye.

"Ok sure!" Spain replied cheerfully, not even bothering to ask who or why he was here.

"Man, you are such an idiot," the man muttered, shaking his head disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Spain asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Umm… I said… that you are NOT an idiot… yeah that's right," the man stuttered, putting himself into attack formation, ready to leap at Spain if he showed any hostility.

"Awww how sweet!" Spain cooed, brushing off his stuttering as a speech impediment.

"Spain who the hell is this fat bastard?" Romano demanded angrily, popping out of nowhere.

"Heeey!" America frowned (not pouted, heroes don't pout).

"Not you, the other fat bastard!" Romano glared, pointing at the large man in the sexy turtleneck. "How did you get in anyways? You climbed in the windows didn't you!" Romano accused, already convinced that the man was a serial killer.

"Oh no," America said gravely, eyes widening comically, as he started to sing a familiar song by the extremely talented Antoine Dodson.

"_He's climbin in yo windows_

_He's snatchin yo people up_

_Trying to rape em_

_So y'all need to_

_Hide yo kids Hide yo wife Hide yo kids Hide yo wife Hide yo kids Hide yo wife_

_And hide yo husband_

_Cause they rapin' everybody out here_

_You don't have to come-"_

America's "singing" was interrupted abruptly by England, who was probably just jealous of his mad skills.

"FAEDAMNIT AMERICA STOP THAT BLOODY SCREECHING YOU CALL SINGING!" England screamed, tired of America's ridiculous antics.

"Guys guys! Stop arguing, dios mío! I let him in!" Spain soothed, trying to stop the impending argument in **his **house.

"Why would you do that?" America asked, confused at why someone would let a bed intruder into their house (then again, he lets France into his house… France=bed intruder).

"He seemed like a nice guy!" Spain replied enthusiastically, glancing eagerly at the large, gruff man.

"I'm not a serial killer! I'm a vamp- veterinarian! I thought I heard a dying animal in here so I came to check it out!" He then grinned nervously, showing off his… fangs?

"Well in that case you're free to stay!" America then flashed his 100 watt Hollywood grin, trusting anyone who has a heroic job like saving animals.

"FOOLISH MORTALS! I AM A VAMPIRE WHO WILL EAT YOU ALL!" The man screamed randomly, as he ripped of his trench coat revealing several forks holstered on his hips.

He then ate everyone except the awesome Prussia, the end.

***end flashback***

"That last flashback didn't even happen!" France yelled frustratingly.

"Well if a vampire **did **come to a nation party one day, it probably would," Prussia countered.

"Touché," France said, "But you just proved my point on how they wouldn't make good lovers. They have too much in common! Plus, they're probably secretly masochistic, why else would they hang out with two of the most temperamental and violent nations in the world ?"

"We can just manipulate their personalities, duh!" Prussia replied, as if it were the most easy thing in the world.

"And how exactly do you presume we do that?" France asked, feigning disinterest.

"Remember what I said earlier about kidnapping and blackmail….?"

**Author's Note: Dun dun dunnnnn Fail Cliffhanger. Oh yeah since no one rejected Conquistador!Spain or Gangster!America, it will be added in later chapters. The real plot also comes in later chapters, stay tuned kiddies. Constructive criticism is really appreciated, or at least something about the story, because I want to make sure whether it's mildly entertaining or is just horrible (I really won't mind if you say it's bad).**

**(1) Rosbif is a derogatory term the French use for the British, which literally means roast beef. It's supposed to be saying how French food is superior to British food, but I don't know why they use roast beef as an example. I think it's pretty good… **

**(2) Wy actually is a real character, but she's only in the manga. I might have changed her personality, but not her looks. She really does have bushy eyebrows.**

**(3) Let's just say Spain still remembers when his totally huge Armada got pwned by a smaller English fleet.**

**(4) After much persuasion from my friends, I finally read Twilight. I recalled a scene where Bella and Edward are eating dinner together (well, Bella was eating), and she described how totally gorgeous he was in a turtleneck. A freakin' turtleneck. Really. I just had to put it in the story, sorry guys. Needless to say, I stopped reading.**


	5. Chapter 5: The Nationapping

**Author's Note: Okay, I can give a million excuses as to why this is late, but it doesn't fix the fact I haven't updated in so long. Sorry wonderful readers, I hope you can forgive me :/ Well anyways, thanks a million to Maya-chan2007, CrimsonTrick, Axxi, Heixarn Mizu, and GrayrainbowNinja13 for reviewing and all you other readers!**

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ __N ~__T ~ __I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

"Prussia… HARDER!"

"I'm trying! The head won't fit!"

"Then push harder!"

"If we didn't COVER the head it would fit!"

"But I don't like looking at it; it always gets a hideous red color and starts throbbing unattractively."

"France, I never thought I'd say this but… NOW IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR PERVERTED INNUENDOS!"

Somehow, kidnapping England had involved sticking several potato and bird food bags over his head (it makes him easier to look at, in France's opinion), hitting him on the head with one of Elizaveta's frying pans, and dragging him on a small fighter plane to Germany, with Prussia constantly texting other people. They went to Germany; Prussia's official headquarters and the place where a freakishly large collection of a certain something that starts with a p and ends with an -orn is held. Yeah, that's right kiddies… popcorn.

***Germany's basement, after the world meeting***

"Where the bloody fuck am I?"

"Relax Angleterre, we are just trying to help!"

"Yeah you prick, is that stick that far up your ass?"

"Look you frog, if you're going to rape me then I will chop your bloody dick off, oh wait, you don't have one!" England taunted, still in a bad mood ever since he decided to apologize to that sexy yet seemingly oblivious American.

"I would never rape anyone!" France cried dramatically, putting on a fake mask of hurt. "It is all consensual! Anyways, you're just mad that Big Ben isn't really that big."

"Why you little-"

"I AM THE SUPEMELY AWESOMELY AMAZINGLY SEXY AWESOME OVERLORD OF BIER! Prussia yelled, "… And awesomeness…" he added as an afterthought, effectively silencing the two bickering nations. Well, it was more like England spouting death threats and France being perverted, you know, same thing.

"England," Prussia started again, "We just want to use our awesome skills to hook you and America up."

"I can do that myself you bloody tosser!" England glared defiantly, staring the two nations down, daring them to disagree. They merely countered it with knowing looks, and eventually England's death glare faltered.

"Okay, maybe it'll be a tad bit difficult, but why would you want to help?" England asked suspiciously, knowing he has been somewhat unpleasant (a douchebag) to France, but what he did to Prussia was even worse...**(1)**

"Because I must help everyone struggling in the art of l'amour, even someone as unlovable as yourself," France declared, puffing out his chest in pride.

"Even though I killed Jeanne**(2)**?" England asked, a cruel look overtaking his features, "I thought you had loved her? Oh well, guess I was wrong." England then cringed internally, but remained poised on the outside as he recalled what he said, regretting it immensely. "_I can't believe I used to be like this…_" England thought sadly, "_Cocky, arrogant, doing and saying whatever I wanted… But why do I miss those days so much_…?

France visibly winced, but recovered quickly with the knowledge of what he was about to do. "_I can't believe I ever wanted to hook him and Amerique up, he is much better with Espagne_," France thought to himself, knowing just how evil England could be if you pushed the right buttons (those would be insulting his cooking and his love life, everyone loves his cooking, at least everyone said so back in his pirate days, especially when there may or may not be a cutlass pointed at them).

"Do you want our awesomely awesomesauce help or not?" Prussia asked, putting his hands on his hips (in a manly way).

"..findfsd," England muttered, averting his eyes.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" France asked not-so innocently, cupping a hand to his ear.

"I WANT YOUR BLOODY HELP!" England screamed angrily, despising himself on the inside for giving in, although he knew deep down it was for the best. "Wait a minute, how do you know America and I broke up anyways?"

"I'm awesome," Prussia replied casually, ignoring England's question, placing a serious look on his normally lighthearted features. "First, I want to ask a few questions…"

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ N ~ T ~ I _**~ T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

"The first phase of Operation Anti Tsundere is complete," Prussia chuckled ominously, sauntering arrogantly out of Germany's house towards the neatly trimmed bushes.

"Prussia, is this all really necessary?" France questioned exasperatedly, "Why can't we just ask Spain and America if they would like to date each other?" France then adopted a strange sparkle in his eyes, not his normal perverted predatory glint, but something deeper and dreamier. "We could set them up on a _romantique_ dinner in the Eiffel Tower, overlooking the _magnifique_ city of Paris, and afterwards they can stroll the city hand in hand, and as the sun sets they can kiss passionately. As soon as they enter their hotel room they make sweet love-"

"France, France, France," Prussia interrupted tiredly, shaking his head mock-frustratingly. "That's way too lame and unawesome. Al and Toni are men, not some sissy little schoolgirls like Romano and England.

"That still doesn't explain why we have to go all the way to Germany; we could've just used my hotel room." France questioned again, getting more agitated by the minute.

"Just relax blondie, "Prussia said casually, "Popcorn?" He asked, shaking a bag of popcorn it front of France's annoyed face.

"Just tell me why we're hiding behind these bushes, leaves are getting onto my outfit," France pestered, about to lose all patience.

"Phase 2 of Operation Anti Tsundere," the albino responded, "We just have to wait."

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ N ~ T ~ I _**~ T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

"Mon ami, it's been two whole minutes!" France cried dramatically, his wonderful ass sore (not what you think perverts) and his clothes askew (once again, not what you think).

"_I'm awesome_

_A quarter of my life gone by and I met all my friends online Mother Fucker_

_I'm awesome_

_I will run away from a brawl_

_The most obnoxious guest_

_Up at the sausage fest"_

Prussia's ringtone**(3) **blared suddenly, making Prussia turn as red as his ruby eyes.

"Uhh.. that's just my ringtone if I got a text," Prussia muttered nervously, cursing Alfred under his breath for changing his ringtone again. Francis merely quirked an eyebrow in response, and Prussia quickly glanced down at his phone.

"Well speak of the devil," Prussia said, "It's Alfred." He quickly flipped it open, glancing at the message.

_**TO: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions**_

_**FROM: the_1337_hero **_

_**Hey Prussia you wanna go to a bar tonight?**_

Prussia assumed Alfred and Arthur had already broken up before the meeting, and of course he was right. ALfred always wanted to drink when he is upset.

_**TO: the_1337_hero **_

_**FROM: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions**_

_**That unawesome prick dumped you again didn't he? Mein gott Alfred, this is the second time this week!**_

_**TO: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions**_

_**FROM: the_1337_hero **_

_**Actually, the third. Now do you want to go to a bar or not?**_

A smug smirk was on Prussia's face, Alfred was unknowingly speeding up his plot.

**TO: the_1337_hero**

**FROM: In_ur_Mom's_vital_regions**

**Kesesessese ok Alfred, but I'm bringing some friends along**

Prussia was about to turn to look back up to France but was greeted by a different blonde, blue-eyed pervert; his brother Germany.

Germany's normally strained, annoyed demeanor could be seen with his posture shaking angrily, his eyebrow twitching agitatedly and his knuckles clenched painfully together. "Why. Did. You steal. My precious_ Flugzeug_**(4)**." He ground out, Feliciano's trembling arm the only thing stopping him from murdering Prussia.

"I'm sorry _Westen_," Prussia muttered almost inaudibly, his blood red eyes watering with unshed tears, gazing up at his little brother. "I just… wanted to remember what it felt like to fly in a real military plane… You know how much I _loved _the military, and flying makes me feel like a real country again…"

Germany was pacified immediately, a sheepishly guilty look overtaking his features. "Uh well, o- of course, but please just tell me first." Germany said awkwardly, heading into the house, followed by a confused Italian.

"France you can stop hiding now." Prussia stated.

"Dieu Merci!" France sighed, "I thought Germany was going to kill me. Once, I was just telling little Feli the wonders of making love and Germany suddenly burst in and marred by flawless face! I never went near him again! I looked almost as hideous as that Englishman. Of course, that isn't possible. I'm the most-"

"France, please stop," Prussia interrupted, not in the mood for another rant. "We have to execute phase two! Follow me." Prussia then trotted into the house, looking expectantly back at the Frenchman. "Well?"

France paused for a moment, contemplating what he was about to say next. "That act with Germany... Was it real?" He asked softly.

He was met with no answer.

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ N ~ T ~ I _**~ T ~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

**(1) According to the internet, he backstabbed Prussia. If I'm wrong, blame google. Most countries backstabbed each other back then, even now they still do.**

**(2) Jeanne was this martyr who France really loved, but the king of England killed her for heresy.**

**(3) The song is called 'I'm Awesome' by Spose, I don't want to be redundant but it's awesome.**

**(4) It means plane.**

**If you think this story is progressing too slowly, can you tell me? Thanks for reading! Oh yeah, the next chapter will be up way sooner, I'll write it while watching the superbowl.**


	6. Chapter 6: France Jacks a Swag

**Author's Note: Damn, I suck chicken butt. I'm sorry for not having updated in forever, and for making Arthur and Romano so… bitchy. Don't worry, that'll change very quickly. I hope people are still reading this…. Spain and America haven't interacted yet either… but they will… in 5 chapters at the most… Well, thanks so much to cake-error, Berry Doyle, Maya-Chan2007, TheBabbleFish, sushilover chan, G Wings, Audacity-cupcakE, Say it Say My Name, virelay, ImploringIdeal, 19TheAwesomeness97 and all you other people for your patience and awesomeness!**

France trailed behind Prussia as they entered Germany's house, wondering if he could ask his friend something. "Prussia," France said, poking Prussia on the ass.

"Yeah what?" He replied casually, eyebrow rising at France's meek expression.

"Am I… tough?"

Prussia promptly burst into a huge bout of laughter, and motioned for him to go into Germany's living room.

The room was everything that you would expect from Germany; only the basic necessities were in the house save for the various weaponry and mechanisms lined on the walls. The furniture was a pale peach and disturbingly sanitary, except for a strange jumble of papers which looked vaguely like a magazine stuck between the crevices of a sofa. Prussia quirked a pale eyebrow, it looked strangely familiar. _'Didn't that BDSM porn I read the other day look like this….?' _Prussia thought to himself, reaching for it.

He was stopped by a calloused hand attached to a strangely frantic Germany, looking back and forth between him and Italy. Prussia inwardly grinned, and knew he could use this as blackmail.

"So what brings you here bruder?" Germany asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"What? Your big bro can't visit their little awesome anymore?" Prussia said, with a small hint of bitterness, something both Germany and France caught. "I'm sorry if you're busy hanging out with someone else," he finished, giving a sideways glance to Italy.

"We can do activities together right now if you wish bruder," Germany muttered softly.

"No thanks I wanted to hang out with Italy." Prussia said casually, looping an arm around the Italian and dragging him to another room.

"But-"

"Do you really want me to tell little Italy here about your… collection?" Prussia asked mock-innocently.

"Ve~ Germany, is it a popcorn collection?" Italy questioned excitedly, hazel eyes wide. "Or even better, a pasta collection! I love pasta it's so yummy! There's spaghetti, Urmomccioli, insertnameheretelli, bieberllini, gnocchi-"

"You know what Italy, I think Prussia wants to talk to you," Germany cut in hurriedly, not in the mood for more mindless blabbering (he gets enough of that from Prussia).

As Prussia proceeded to lead the ditzy Italian to another room, Germany turned around to see France wearing something pretty damn sexy. Well, more like not wearing. Only a single sunflower adorned his body, with the rest of him naked as the day he was born.

"What happened to the rose?" Germany questioned, already used to the Frenchman's lewd behavior (he had invaded him before, Prussia's not the only vital region taker you know).

"This sunflower was a gift from Russie when we-"

France immediately stopped when he saw the barrel of a Sturmgewehr 44, the world's first assault rifle, pointed directly at his most important body part. France sighed dramatically, already used to this kind of behavior and left the house, taking Germany's plane along with him, headed for England. But just before, he asked Germany something.

"Am I a wimp?" France asked self consciously.

"Ja, now leave before I make my dogs bite your wiener off."

That was enough for France to hightail it out of there, he preferred to receive blowjobs from people (most of the time), and he wasn't into bestiality (that much).

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~__N ~__T~ __I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

France casually approached Romano's hotel room, intent on getting his phone that he had left there. He stopped suddenly, not in the mood for getting beat up again (make sex, not violence!). He exited the building and started climbing the ledges on it, thankful that Romano's room was on the second floor. As he slowly crept through the window with suspicious ease (yet another Bed Intruder reference), he went for his phone lying on a bedside table. He was about to leave, but a scared Italian's voice coming from the hall made him dive into the nearest closet, leaving the door open just enough for him to see. _Why are there handcuffs here…? And is that a cop outfit? Damn Romano's pretty kinky_…

Francis's perverted musings were cut off as he heard Romano's frantic voice talking to the phone clenched tightly in his hand.

"I'LL ANSWER YOUR DAMN QUESTIONS! Just leave fratello alone…"

France suddenly grew extremely worried, would Prussia really resort to torturing Italy just for information from Romano….?

Romano started mumbling things into the phone for a few tense minutes, until he dropped it like it was hot.

"WHAT THE FUCK BASTARDOS! FELICIANO'S NOT IN FUCKING DANGER? YOU LITTLE-

The door was quickly slammed open by two perverted nations, namely Hungary and Japan.

"I heard the word fuck," Hungary stated, looking around for two males fornicating. She slowly approached the closet, placing a hand on it, gradually opening it until a light shade of blonde was seen…..

"Elizaveta san, I think we should start our mission," a slightly embarrassed Japan muttered softly.

"RIGHT!" Elizaveta said enthusiastically, grinning brightly at Romano. "We're gonna' solve your crappy love life!"

Romano twitched vehemently, but reminded himself it was a woman he was talking to. _As_ _if that crazy pervert could be even slightly related to a woman.  
A woman was everything a man could want… Kind… Like Spain… Sexy… like Spain... An excellent cook…. Like Spain… an annoying bitch…. Like Sp- America….Wait a minute him with America!_

"Romano-san…" Kiku said hesitantly, not wanting to interrupt Romano's sudden daydream. It was indeed strange, at first his eyes were all glassy and happy, like he was thinking of someone he loved and then it was suddenly horrified, like he had just seen his brother getting down on Germany...

"Are you imagining Italy taking a ride on Germany's disco stick?" Hungary asked bluntly, effectively snapping Romano out of his trace.

He merely shuddered in response, and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like "I fucking saw it goddamnit mutherfuckers."

Hungary willed the mental images to disappear; she didn't need another visit to the Red Cross.

"We're here to get you and Spain-san back together," Kiku said gravely, knowing that the importance of yaoi was no laughing matter.

"What about you and Hungary, huh? If you two can't even get together I don't see how you're going to help me," Romano shot back bitterly, hating being reminded of his failures.

At this, they both flushed a bright red, and quickly averted eye contact.

"Not even bothering to give a response I see," Romano snorted cruelly, leaving the hotel room with a flourish.

"Uh I think… Er… Well I'm going to go now later Kiku!" Hungary said in a rush, running out of the room like there was a new episode of Jersey Shore on.

Kiku sighed dejectedly, and after a few moments exited too, his usual graceful movements a tad bit sluggish.

France, who had been watching this interesting display events decided to keep this to himself. "I am such a badass," France said pompously, immediately tripping over a pair of handcuffs, landing flat on his face. "…..my beautiful face…"

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ __N ~ __T ~ __I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

After France grabbed his phone, he quickly exited the building and checked his messages, and one said to wait outside the hotel for Prussia. After a few minutes he spotted Prussia pulling up with his Prussian blue Porsche, filled with two other passengers, Korea and Denmark, and they were wearing, wait _ce qui la baise_**(1)!**

Korea, super crackishly happy KOREA was wearing what one could only describe as a gangster outfit. His dark black hair was messy, like he had just gotten out of bed and the curl in his hair which usually had a smiley face now looked like ಠ_ಠ. A dark form fitting tank top clung to his figure filled with random expletives, covered by a huge baggy jacket with the words 내 거시기 팬 소녀들을 빨아**(2)**! Pitch black jeans clung precariously to his figure, sagging dangerously and showing off his extremely badass neon pink boxers. Chains jingled at the seams of the jeans, and through the tears of his clothes you could see tattoos peeking out from underneath.

What Denmark was wearing was much less surprising, but much more… noticeable. He was wearing his old Viking outfit: chain mail covered his bare chest, flashily showing off his eight pack and tanned skin, with woolen trousers covered by long leather boots on his legs. An intricate leather belt hung loosely at his waist, completing the look**(3).**

They both glanced at France, gauging his reactions, but he was lost in thought, thinking about something much more important. S_hould I kick in the front seat, or sit in the back seat….. Which seat should I take!_ France had overheard a couple of gangsters talking about a song called Friday a few days back, and he immediately went to go check it out on TubeYou**(4). **France really wanted to be tougher, and gangsters were tough, right? The song sucked rosbif, but he forced himself to listen to it anyway. Since gangsters listened to it, that Rebecca Black must have been an OG (he also saw a song called My Jeans in the video response, which was even worse, but he listened to it anyway). He forgot which seat Rebecca Black sat on though! Where does he sit to look like a tough guy!

Finally deciding on the front seat, France sat there. It was pretty comfy actually, the seat felt like leather, and it was quite firm too. There was-

"Sorry hot stuff, not in the mood for a lap dance," Denmark said casually, glancing down at the Frenchman in his lap.

"Ohonhon, you'll regret saying that once I-"

"Sit in the goddamn backseat or I kick yo ass muthafucka!" Korea growled, effectively scaring France with his severe occness. "… so your breasts can be mine!" Korea added cheerfully, giving France a thumbs up. Well in that case…

Fast as lightning, France was in the backseat, reaching to pull down Korea's already sagging pants.

"No sex in the awesome machine," Prussia said, not even bothering to glance back at them as he floored the vehicle, headed for PissedUnicorns.

"So.." France stated nonchalantly, curling a strand of blonde hair with his finger, trying to makes small talk while Prussia went at an extremely high speed (like in bed). "I like your jeans," he said, motioning to Korea's fab pants.

"..Okay," Korea said, giving France a strange look.

"Are Hannah Montana and Kiki Palmer wearing those jeans?" France inquired seriously, poking Korea's jeans. Korea, who was busy rubbing circle onto France's breasts just gave him a weird look and resumed claiming his breasts. "HAHAHAHA JACK MY SWAG**(5)**!" France announced randomly, but everyone assumed this was code for something perverted so they ignored him. Before they knew it, they arrived at PissedUnicorns.

When they entered the establishment, Prussia faced Denmark and Korea. "Okay, Denmark you and France can teach Spain how to be a conquistador while Korea and I can teach America how to be a gangster."

"But Prussia, wasn't Spain a conquistador before, and America was a gangster too!" A strange voice out of nowhere said.

France blinked, rubbing his cerulean eyes as he cocked his head at the perso- thing in front of him. He looked familiar…

"OH SHIT AMERICA'S HERE! He must've figured out our plan!" Denmark announced loudly in a panicked voice, earning strange looks from other patrons.

"That's Canada fuckers," Prussia hissed angrily, "He's been here the whole time!"

Canada gave Prussia a fond smile and added, "Denmark, aren't you dressed as a Viking?"

Denmark waved him off indifferently, "Vikings and conquistadors, same thing. They both rode ships and killed people."

"Touché," Canada muttered.

"Okay," Prussia started, "America should be here any minute, and Spain soon afterwards. We can't let them see each other!"

At that very minute, America walked through the door, looking around confusedly. France's eyes widened, and in a split second decision he shoved Prussia and Denmark with a surprising amount of strength toward a couple of potted plants nearby.

"Bonjour America, over here!" France said hurriedly, pushing America and Korea towards the corner of the room.

"What the hell is France doing!" Prussia hissed angrily, glaring at him from his spot behind the potted plants. "I'm going after him."

"Stop Prussia," Denmark said in an uncharacteristically serious voice, placing a firm hand on Prussia's shoulder. "Haven't you noticed that he keeps trying to act tough? You know France is a bit…." Denmark paused for a moment, wondering how exactly he would describe the feminine French pervert. "….Unmanly, and he's probably trying to prove to someone he can be tough and act like a gangster."

Prussia stared back in shock for a moment, and said what most would say when they're at a loss for words. "…Ur face."

"I know, it's pretty sexy," Denmark said flippantly, giving him a grin rivaling even America's.

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A__N __T__I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

**Author's Note: You're probably wondering who exactly France is trying to impress (if you think about it, you'll realized the answer). You're also probably wondering, 'why the hell are Denmark and Korea here, and adding to that 'Denmark as a Viking isn't surprising, but Korea as a Gangster?' Trust me, it's pretty important to the plot, and the reason will be revealed in later chapters. Also, all the pairings in this have a purpose; I really hate it when authors add side pairings for no legitimate reason. Like when you're reading a Latvia/Switzerland (yes Latvia tops) fic and suddenly Norway and Russia pop out of nowhere and start making out). Enough of my rambling, below are the translations and explanations.**

**(1) – This means what the hell, usually people slip into their mother tongue when surprised.**

**(2) – This means suck my dick fangirls, because believe me people in K!Rap/K!Pop have a scary amount of rabid fangirls all over the world.**

**(3) – The clothes are loosely accurate, I looked on the internet about Viking clothing but no one was really sure what they wore since they usually cremated their dead.**

**(4) – The song the gangsters are talking about is another song called Friday by Ice Cube, way different then Rebecca Black's. OG= Original Gangster**

**(5) France is talk-singing the song My Jeans by Jenna Rose. It's… well here's the link if you're brave enough to watch it: (remove the spaces) **http : / /www. youtube. com / watch?v=7DwT_2QQU64** Before you do, remember that I am not responsible for any losses in hearing, explosive diarrhea, mental scarring, or an extremely painful death. Then again, Disney Stars sing just as pointless stuff….**


	7. Chapter 7: Don't mess with an Asian

**Author's Note: I'm honestly not sure if this chapter is that funny… but I wanted to update fast. Thanks to Say It Say My Name, Maya-chan2007, 19TheAwesomeness97, Axxi, The Babble Fish, and Midnight Ghost for your fabulousness and to all you other readers too!**

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ __N ~ __T ~ __I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

France inwardly panicked as he led America and Korea to a table. He was once a conquistador, but he knew next to nothing about gangsters, despite his constant research.

"Is anything wrong Francis?" America inquired softly, prodding France lightly with a gloved hand. "It's a hero's job to save their friends you know."

"Oui," he said softly, gazing up at America. Meanwhile, Korea was watching this exchange interestedly, rubbing America's and France's breasts with either of his hands.

"A guy mistook you for a girl again, huh." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

France's eyebrow twitched dangerously.

"Of course not!" Korea proclaimed loudly, jumping up excitedly and showcasing his pink boxers to his fan girls nearby, "His dick must've been bitten off by Germany's dogs again. You know, dicks originated from-"

"OH! I KNOW WHY NOW! Don't worry France, England has the same problem. Just put a napkin in your underwear for now, and we could stop at a store later to buy tampons!" Alfred said sweetly, patting France's shoulder reassuringly.

"NON IDIOTES!" France yelled angrily, eyes burning a hole in both nations, hands ready to strangle the two nations.

"I guess you were right for once Al," Korea admitted good naturedly, "Mood swings are definitely a sign of-

"My friend has a crush on you!" France screamed over Korea, pointing at the seemingly idiotic blonde nation.

"Sorry Francis, my heart belongs to Artie," Alfred sighed like a teenage girl, grinning stupidly.

"Didn't you guys break up?" Korea questioned rudely, effectively making an emo cloud come over Alfred. He stood up from his seat, walking towards the corner of the bar, which happened to be the place Denmark and Prussia were hiding…

"Yo blondie! GET THE FUCK OUT of that emo corner! It belongs to Sasuke**(1)**!" Some random pink haired dude said. He looked hella ugly, and at first glance it looked like a chick but the lack of… adipose tissue in the upper chest area suggested otherwise. Plus, the size of his forehead was almost as large as Prussia's awesomeness (ego).

Normally the ever heroic America would be unafraid of the fuming pinkette, but the size of that forehead was just too freaky! Sure, huge eyebrows are pretty sexy, but a large forehead? Now that's just weird.

Effectively being zapped out of his emo phase, America returned to the table with a nervous grin and muttered, "Who's the lucky dude?"

France smiled evilly, eyes glinting in a predatory fashion. "It's a surprise."

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A ~ __N ~ __T ~ __I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

"..What was the point of going to the bar if we were just going to your hotel room?" America questioned, not realizing the implications of his words.

"PSSH! I wasn't planning to get you drunk, drag you to my hotel room and bang you till the sun rises if that's what you were thinking!" Korea chuckled uneasily, thumbs fiddling together.

"Oui, what Korea said," France agreed, "Instead of fucking it'd be making love passionately, until the last slivers of the copper sun's rays fade upon our hot sweaty bodies, and as the.."

"Errr.. France?"

"…oh and how could I forget the mayonnaise?"

"France-"

"Maybe Sealand could join too, oh it'd be _très bien_!"

"…..Franny…?"

"We can even do foreplay with those disgusting potatoes you call français frites!"

"FRANCE!" America yelled, bitch slapping France and effectively shutting him up. "French fries go in our mouths, not… other holes…" America shuddered involuntarily; even he wouldn't do something as weird as that. Although, he did see fan art with provocative photos with him and a burger… and a fan fiction… and a TubeYou video**(2)**… you know what never mind!

"Francis… the plan," Korea reminded, poking France on the breast.

"What plan?" America's eyes narrowed suspiciously, only evil guys needed plans. Heroes just charged in recklessly and pwned everyone, just because they're that awesome.

"Well America," France started, averting his eyes at the small bit of guilt for lying to his friend. "My friend has had a crush on you for so long, but… He's too afraid to ask you out. He has a boner for gangsters though, so if you act like one he'll probably get the guts to ask you out!" France finished breathless, waiting it anticipation at Alfred's reaction.

"Why can't I just ask him out?" America pointed out intelligently.

France paused for a moment, forgetting about that possibility. "Because you're… awesome."

"You're right France," America affirmed, nodding his head solemnly.

France inwardly thanked Prussia, kissing ass did work!

"Okay America," Korea cut in, "I'm here to properly teach you how to be a G. France is here to be my assistant. Now, I found an awesome video (made by an Asian of course) that can successfully accomplish our goals!"

America stared back, impressed. Korea didn't mention how something originated in Korea. _He must really be taking this seriously_….

"Go to the video!" Korea commanded at France, enjoying his superiority over the other two nations.

France obeyed quickly, grabbing his sleek red laptop and going to the login page, typed in his oh so fabulous password (iSecretlylove50Cent) and waited for it to load while gazing fondly at his wallpaper. It was a picture of his left hand, the only person he knew he could count on. When he was lonely and drunk with no one willing to sleep with him, he could count on Mr. Lefty! France could feel a tingling in his nether regions at the pleasant thought.

Korea just gave France an understanding look, and went on TubeYou to look up the amazing video he was talking about.

He typed in "HigaNiga," and quickly clicked on the first video that popped up**(3).**

The screen showed a picture of two guys dressed in dark clothing, with black guyliner on their eyelids. The first one's name was Dead, because I killed it (DBK for short), and the second guy's name was… Bobby.

"Lesson one," DBK started, glaring menacingly at the camera, "A true emo person hurts themselves," he paused for dramatic effect, "And enjoys it."

France was slightly surprised, but didn't doubt the masters. He reached into America's back ass pocket (and groped his buttocks a few times), pulled out a extremely shiny chainsaw, and slowly began inching it towards his neck…

"Da ze! Look what you did France! You clicked on the wrong video! This is How to be Emo, not How to be Gangster!" Korea put his hands on his hips, narrowing his already narrow eyes at France.

The atmosphere was tense, and of course, a certain North American nation broke it.

"Are you sleeping?" America asked, lifting Korea's eyelids.

France gasped dramatically, eyes opening comically. Never, ever dis an Asian's chinky eyes.

Korea immediately punched America in the gut, "Damn gweilo**(4)**," he muttered, and exited the perimeter with a flourish.

"Errr…." America felt pretty bad, but that punch fucking hurt!

"I think we should continue with the lesson," France said tentatively, grabbing the laptop and clicking on the correct video.

**~ O ~ P ~ E ~ R ~ A ~ T ~ I ~ O ~ N ~ **_A__N __T__I _**~ T~ S ~ U ~ N ~ D ~ E ~ R ~ E ~**

**Author's Note: I was going to make this longer, but I wanted to know who you wanted America and France to act all gangster on. You can pick (almost) anyone from the show, or someone from another show/book/movie entirely. I'll just do research on that person and give them a cameo. Don't be afraid to tell me! But only one person, and no anonymous reviews will count. I won't accept anything after April 23****rd**** too.**

**(1)Yup, that's Sakura from Naruto. Sorry if you like her (or Sasuke), I couldn't resist. Adipose tissue is just a scientific word for fat.**

**(2)I've actually seen all three of those things. Here's the link to the video (remove the spaces)** http : / /www. youtube. com / watch?v=bGh0z6qsCzY

**(3)NigaHiga is the most subscribed person on YouTube, and his videos are pretty funny. He does indeed have How to be Gangster and How to be Emo.**

**(4)Gweilo = A derogatory term for white people used by the Chinese, but since Korea is Asian I decided to use it. Not all Asians have chinky eyes.**


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